ot a horse, and off I stole to the Boer commando. The dispute was
amicably settled. Some thirty Barolongs, however, offered resistance.
Most eagerly I thus fired my first shot upon a human being. I did not
know then that it would not be the last; that I should live to hear the
mountains and hills of South Africa reverberate with the sound of
exploding shells, that the whizz of bullets would assail my ears like
the humming of bees; that a bullet would penetrate my own lungs, leaving
me a mass of bleeding clay on the battle-field. I did not know that
South Africa's plains would yet be drenched with the blood of Boer and
Briton until the very rivers ran crimson.

At the early age of seventeen I left the parental roof to earn for
myself an independent living. I went to the district of Rouxville, where
I occupied a farm situated on the Basutoland border. Several of the
Basuto chiefs I got to know well. They allowed me to purchase all I
desired from their subjects. Occupied thus with my private affairs while
years sped by, I unconsciously drifted on to the disastrous war.

My mind was never absorbed nor disturbed by the many political
controversies and problems of South Africa, not that I was indifferent
to the welfare of my people and country, for, once war was declared by
the leaders, my services were ready. I attached myself to the Rouxville
Commando, under Commandant J. Olivier, as a private burgher. When
Prinsloo surrendered, late in 1900, I was appointed Assistant-Commandant
over that portion of the Rouxville Commando which had refused to lay
down arms on Prinsloo's authority. This was my first commission in the
Boer Army. On more than one occasion I had been requested to accept
appointments; but, realising the great responsibility involved in
leadership, I preferred to fight as a private. But events pushed onward;
and on the 26th of August, 1900, when Commandant Olivier made an
unsuccessful attack on Winburg, which resulted in his capture, I was
elected in his stead, and so became Commandant of the Rouxville
Commando.

On December 16th, 1900, carrying out instructions of General De Wet, I
crossed the Orange River at a point near Odendaal's Stroom, with about
270 burghers. General De Wet was to follow me, but he was prevented. The
enemy, determined to drive me back or effect my capture, concentrated
numerous forces on my small commando. For months I was dreadfully
harassed, and had no rest day or night. But I was reso